


hearth, hot chocolate, and home

by sophaerospdf



Category: White Collar
Genre: "it's only july why are you writing winter fic" because i CAN, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Multi, Polyamory, Winter, i cant believe i just wrote only fluff with no angst. who am i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophaerospdf/pseuds/sophaerospdf
Summary: “I’m stealing your wife, Peter,” Neal announces before Peter can say anything. “Once I find a ring to steal that’ll suit her, it’s over for you.”El giggles, apparently charmed by declarations of crime. “I’m afraid I’m not so easily bought, darling,” she says, putting an arm around his shoulders and carding through his hair.“I’ll get to you eventually,” he says seriously.
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	hearth, hot chocolate, and home

Standing on the front steps of his house, Peter fumbles with his keys, fingers stiff with the unusually cold winter. Beside him, Neal shivers in his wool coat.

“C’mon, is it that hard to put the keys in the door?” Neal demands.

Peter holds the keys out towards him, shooting Neal a dry look. “You try it then.”

“No thanks,” Neal replies immediately, burying his hands deeper into his pockets.

Finally, the key clicks and the door swings open. Warm air, tinged with the sweetness of chocolate, wafts out.

Neal makes a beeline for the fireplace, curling up on the rug in front of it while wrapping the thick throw blanket he swiped from the couch around his shoulders. The contented sigh he lets out, tension visibly ebbing away, makes Peter smile in amusement.

“Welcome home,” Elizabeth calls from the kitchen. “I’m making hot chocolate!”

“Love you, be there in a bit,” Peter calls back. He hangs up his coat, dusting snow off the fabric.

Satchmo comes bounding up to him, tail wagging joyfully. He obliges with a scratch behind the ears. Satchmo wanders off to sniff at Neal, lying down to gnaw on a chew toy when Neal doesn’t move beyond a coo and quick pat. 

Peter walks into the living room, Neal not reacting to his presence but clearly aware that he’s there.

“Cozy?” Peter asks mildly, brushing a hand through his hair. Neal arches into the touch, eyes fluttering half-closed. He makes a wordless sound of agreement.

“It’s too cold outside,” Neal scowls. The firelight casts shifting shadows on the flush high on his cheeks, still cool to the touch from the snow outside.

It’s a wonder how Neal is still cold with the coat he didn’t bother to take off on top of his usual suit. The fabric is slightly damp with melted snow, collar bar and cufflinks catching faint light under the blanket. Peter recalls him complaining about how hard it was to put them on with the freezing air of this morning. He still managed it though. Neal and his insistence on fashion.

“Well, El’s making hot chocolate, so don’t fall asleep too fast.” Neal hums in acknowledgement.

In the kitchen, Elizabeth pours hot chocolate and milk into a mug, two already steaming near her elbow. Peter comes up behind her to give her a peck on the cheek, earning a laugh and El turning her head to give a proper kiss.

“Hello, you,” she says warmly. “You boys have fun at work?”

“Slow day today, seems like even criminals find the weather too cold.” He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Like the one in front of our fireplace, for example,” he adds.

Elizabeth takes a sip from a spoon and judges the hot chocolate pretty much perfect. “Come help me carry these, then,” she says, nudging two of the mugs towards him.

Peter goes easily, picking up one mug in each hand. He sets them down on the coffee table, taking a moment to observe Neal quietly. His cheek rests on his drawn-up knees, expression obscured by the artful mess of dark hair. Right now, he looks relaxed, all pretense and deliberate charm coaxed away. The loose curve of his shoulders is no conscious decision.

This is the side of Neal Caffrey, world class con man ( _ex-con man,_ Peter reminds himself), no one else ever gets to see; dozed off in their house with no need to keep his guard up, the only place he’ll ever let himself forget the need to keep contingency plans hidden behind a disarming smile.

Peter is stunned, as he often is, and profoundly grateful at how _lucky_ he is, this life and loves he has. He doesn’t wonder what he did to deserve this, because that line of thought never leads anywhere good, but when he looks at them he knows he’ll do anything to keep them safe. He loves the two of them so deeply that sometimes it catches him off-guard, but never in its inevitability.

El comes up beside him, eyes fond as she cradles her own mug in her hands.

“Should we let him sleep?” she asks softly.

Peter shakes his head. “He’ll get cramps sleeping in this position anyway. He can sleep in a more comfortable place later.”

With that, he crouches down, shaking Neal’s shoulder gently. “Wake up, Neal. Neal.”

Neal blinks awake slowly, blue eyes hazy with sleep. He focuses on Peter’s face, a lazy grin spreading languidly on his own.

“Well hello there,” he drawls, the effect somewhat ruined by a slight yawn. “I sure hope you have a good reason for waking me up, officer.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Unless you want El’s hot chocolate to go cold…”

“I’m up,” Neal says quickly.

He moves to stand up, stumbling as he comes to the unpleasant realisation that yes, falling asleep hunched over the floor will make your back and legs protest very vocally. Peter catches him before he can tip face-first into the fire.

“Thanks,” Neal beams, pulling the blanket around his shoulders.

He sits down on the couch beside Elizabeth, picking up a mug as he goes. Pressing himself against her side, he basks in her chuckle and the warmth seeping through her clothes. He takes a sip from his mug, savouring the heat spreading in his gut.

The chocolate goes down smooth and rich, with an added kick from the spices mixed in. He licks the aftertaste off his lips, a contemplative expression crossing his face.

“Cinnamon and chili powder?” he asks El.

She sips her drink serenely. “Trade secret.”

“I’m stealing your wife, Peter,” Neal announces, taking another delighted sip, before Peter can say anything. “Once I find a ring to steal that’ll suit her, it’s over for you.”

El giggles, apparently charmed by declarations of crime. “I’m afraid I’m not so easily bought, darling,” she says, putting an arm around his shoulders and carding through his hair.

“I’ll get to you eventually,” he says seriously, simultaneously turning his face to bury it into her shoulder and reaching out a hand towards Peter impatiently.

Peter settles down with his mug in one hand, taking Neal’s with the other. Neal sighs contentedly, the only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep again the mug held steady in his right hand.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Peter tells him, leaning over to kiss El over his head then pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Neal turns his head to catch Peter’s lips against his, giving a pleased hum. With his eyes closed, Peter feels Elizabeth trace indulgent, aimless patterns on the back of his neck.

“I like a challenge,” Neal says when they part, slightly breathless. A quicksilver flash of adoration he doesn’t try to hide darts across his eyes.

Peter leans back against the couch, rubbing Neal’s knuckles absently with his thumb.

“Good,” is all he says. Half-hidden behind the mug of hot chocolate, his mouth curls up into a small smile.

It’s a Friday night. Outside, it keeps snowing. Peter, El, and Neal curl up close together in front of the fireplace, nursing hot chocolate and listening to the quiet crackling of the fireplace. At some point, Satchmo will wander over and try to get to their drinks. They’ll go upstairs to sleep in a proper bed, a tangle of limbs and heady laughter.

Later, though. Right now, it’s warm in front of the fireplace.  


**Author's Note:**

> why yes i did write this in one shot only a week after discovering white collar exists, totally didn't ignore my wips and projects to do so.
> 
> thank you to my friends damien and dante for leaving me such lovely comments and feedback!!! <3
> 
> thanks for reading!!


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